


Fearless, and Full of Joy

by just_ann_now



Category: Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell, Maurice (1987)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Post-Canon, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_ann_now/pseuds/just_ann_now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We can do anything, once we know what it is. "  Maurice said. "I know what I want now, and it's to spend the rest of my life with you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fearless, and Full of Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misslucyjane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucyjane/gifts).



> Hope you don't mind the (tiny) crossover with _Cloud Atlas_ ; I was already writing it, and your prompt seemed to dovetail very nicely.

**1913**

Afterwards, they simply lay together; such luxury to lie in each others' arms. The air in the boathouse was cool, but their skin was warm. 

"Did you want to go to Buenos Aires, then?" Maurice murmured, his lips brushing Alec's hair. "We still could, if that..."

"Nah, not really; it was my brother's idea. Seemed like a good one, at the time. I mean, I 'spose I would have become head gamekeeper at Pendersley eventually, but what's the point, really? Spending my life following nobs around, picking up their dead rabbits for them, cleaning their guns? And thinking that's the best I could hope for? In Argentina it might have been something different, who knows?" He nuzzled Maurice's throat. "My family will be right angry, though, after spending all that money."

"They're probably worried, too, that something might have happened to you."

"Somethin' did." Alec turned and kissed Maurice quickly, hungrily; then relaxed back into his arms. "You're right, though; I 'spose I'll have to write to them and let them know I'm all right."

They lay together quietly for a long while, listening to the night sounds outside, and their own quiet breathing. Then Maurice asked, "You seem as though you've been educated, somewhat; you don't speak like many servants your age. When you came to town you were dressed well, and at the Museum...Is there someone who.." 

"There was a schoolmaster in the village, a young bloke; he helped me with my reading, and taught me how to speak more like a toff. He's the one saying that things can't go on as they are. War's coming, and that'll change everything, he says..."

"It will change many things, but it won't change anything for men like us, not for a long time, if ever. We can't stay here, nor would I want to...shall we go to Italy, and take our chances there? I have money, a good bit, actually, we wouldn't starve."

Alec's eyes shone in the candlelight. "Could we? Now that we've been together I don't never want to be parted from you, ever. But..." He looked away. 

"What is it?" Maurice said softly, reaching up to stroke Alec's cheek. Alec took Maurice's hand and kissed it. 

"It's just that, when I wrote you that letter, I wasn't thinking to make trouble for you. I just wanted...I wanted to be with you again, to share with you just one more time. It was so good, so good with you, and so different from any one else..." 

Maurice's stomach clenched; he didn't want to think about Alec with anyone else. This was a gift, a gift from the gods, and if it was to be his fate to spend the rest of his life worshipping the gods who had given it to him, he gladly would. Nothing in the past would exist any more, and the future - who knew what the future would bring? They would live only in the present. 

"If we went to Italy, though, what would we... I mean, we could fuck all day," Alec laughed, and Maurice's heart leapt with shock and delight. "That would be wonderful, but..." 

"We'll get a villa in one of those hill towns outside Florence. We'll learn Italian, and then I'll teach your Latin, perhaps some Greek. We'll learn every bit of history about the spot, and become local experts. Perhaps we'll buy a farm, an olive grove or some fruit trees, and become gentleman farmers! Remember what I said: we can do anything, once we know what it is. " He kissed Alec again. "I know what I want now, and it's to spend the rest of my life with you."

**1930**

My dear Sixsmith:

I've found us the most perfect place to stay - the steward on the boat over recommended it. "Caters to your sort," he said, though I didn't think to ask him precisely what he meant - artistic? scientific? - but then I was distracted, and by the time I thought to ask, he had slipped away. 

Any road, it's a small guest house, operated by a pair of British expatriates, and its clientele is exclusively male - no simpering maidens and their pushy mamas about! There's quite a scandalous story behind it (the proprietors didn't tell me, they are the souls of good manners, but one of the other guests is quite the gossip.) Apparently Mssrs. Hall and Scudder met back before the War; Scudder was actually the under-gamekeeper at a country house where Mr. Hall was a frequent guest. They ran away together, Mr. Hall having the good sense to have laid a bit of cash aside for emergencies. They ended up in Alexandria during the War, and told us some hair-raising stories about their experiences working with the International Red Cross there. 

Mr Scudder doesn't say much, but what he does is quite sensible; you'd be sorely pressed to believe he started out as an under-gamekeeper. Mr Hall can hardly take his eyes off him. I caught a glimpse of them, out in the garden one evening. There was such fire between them! Yet on the surface they both seem so controlled. It's quite fascinating. I would write them as a duet for violin and cello, with some oboe, I think, and clarinet. And an undercurrent of percussion, a steady throb underneath. 

I imagine a future for us like that one day, in our old age, when I've finally retired on my musical laurels, and you have thoroughly exhausted the mysteries of sub-atomic particles. 

I hope you've got a bit of extra brass to bring along; lovely as Casa Damione is, with little balconies curtained with jasmine, and a lovely private beach for bathing - very private, if you catch my drift - it's a bit pricey. I'd hate to decamp on them, though; they're so pleasant. I'd feel very guilty.

Come as soon as you can. This place fairly reeks of sensuality, and I can hardly wait to enjoy it with you. 

Yours,

R. F.

**1938**

Maurice stood at the edge of the garden overlooking the sea below. He could hear his sister's footsteps, but didn't turn. After being so close throughout their youth, the distance between them now was immeasurable. But he knew that she had not yet realized this. 

"What will you do now?" Kitty asked. "Will you come back home?"

"Home?" Maurice said slowly. "What is 'home'? I've not lived in England since, what, nineteen thirteen? I hardly consider it my home any longer. "

"But there are few who remember what happened, your ...indiscretion. You could rejoin the firm. I'm sure with your language skills..."

Maurice barked a laugh. "My 'indiscretion'? Alec and I were together for well over twenty years. _He was my life._ Every memory I have of England is tinged with grief and shame, but our life here was fearless, and full of joy. This house we built together - Alec is buried here in our garden. How could you think that I would ever want to leave?"

"You sound as though you imagine you were married! But I'm sure you could still...perhaps Anne Durham knows someone..." 

He whirled on her in a fury. "Are you mad? We were bound, body and soul. I swore to him we would never be parted, and we never will be." 

"You're the one who's mad," she whispered. She turned and walked away. 

Maurice gazed up at the stars, breathing deeply of the scent of jasmine and the salt tang of the sea. The sound of the surf breaking on the rocks was steady, rhythmical, like the beat of his heart. _Never to be parted_ , he whispered, opened his arms wide, and stepped off into the sky.


End file.
